


he hates the moon as much as he does himself

by sweetgoodgraciousangel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Sad, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetgoodgraciousangel/pseuds/sweetgoodgraciousangel
Summary: It’s like the nature of the building itself was sinister and the eventual impending disaster was inside, as cowardly as he ever was, trembling alone at the top of the steps and standing before an altar.





	he hates the moon as much as he does himself

It’s like the nature of the building itself was sinister and the eventual impending disaster was inside, as cowardly as he ever was, trembling alone at the top of the steps and standing before an altar.

Augustine’s hand shook as he tilted the lit match over the wicks of the brand new pristine white candles, his fingers passing dangerously through the scorching flickers occasionally with not a single thought to regard the pain. He didn’t wince and cry out, but he didn’t think it pleasant either. It was a momentary sting, then gone. He was too focused to care.

The candles gave off the illusion of warmth. It was no fire place, but as he set the now charred match aside, he held his hands over the bundle of small flames, feeling more comforted than he ever had before in recent time. They mimicked a memory he thought of fondly.

The way the moon shone in through the windows felt like it was mocking him even with the curtains drawn, and he scowled at it, as if it could acknowledge his hatred.

This was  _his_ place,  _his_ space to preach, yet he prayed to someone other than himself.

“This is  _all_ I have…” He said quietly, trying to keep his tears at bay.

The past seemed like it was all so far away from him. It was pointless to reminisce, but on nights like these when he hated the moon and felt his worst, he found himself thinking and lost in his mind. 

He missed  _everything_. He missed going out in the warmth of Autumere’s breeze with Oswald at his side, the two of them seemingly forever young in their adult years as they laughed their days away, sunbathing underneath the golden colors of the world around them. It was all okay, and if he closed his eyes now he could picture perfectly Oswald opening up his front door, inviting him inside with a warm and happy smile.

It was senseless to keep thinking about the past at this point, but he wanted to go back and take away everything and how it progressed. 

Yet he was at the very top of it all, and the only one to blame for how it all happened.

**Author's Note:**

> asdhgjlajflajdglkj?


End file.
